Departures
by Beth Weasley
Summary: Finally able to cross the gaps between stars on their own, the survivors of the Hunter-Gratzner gradually go their separate ways. M for language and, as a friend said, some bow-chicka-wow-wow.


*crosses fingers* OK, here's Departures for you all, and Lynx thinks I can get away with the unedited version, so you're getting the whole shebang! Please please please review and let me know if I did a good job. And pray that this doesn't get kicked. Though it will be going up on AFF net next week, so it'll be somewhere for people to read.

**Departures**

A Seer-verse Story

Tangiers IV loomed in the forward viewport, but I was watching the reflection of a weedy, balding, bespectacled man, not the scenery. Paris P. Ogilvie fidgeted in his jumpseat, obviously eager to disembark so much earlier than the _Hunter-Gratzner_ could have managed, even though his cargo was still on the planet where the larger ship had crashed. Equally apparent was his fear of what the pilot or I might do to him; he knew more than enough to completely ruin our plans for the future.

Because the man at my left hand was none other than the infamous murderer and escaped convict Richard B. Riddick. The bounty on his head for a live capture currently soared over the million-UD mark, which could tempt many. Then again, Ogilvie knew what Riddick and I were capable of.

Just two nights earlier, he'd emerged from his cabin aboard the _Sparrow_ for some reason, extremely late, and all but stumbled into our attempt at a sparring match. Even with as much furniture moved as possible, we had little room to really get going, but the little merchant had been centimeters from both a large fist and a steel-toed combat boot. We never found out why he'd been up, because he'd dived back through the hatch with a squeak.

So I had an idea of what might be going through Paris' mind.

"Betcha Johns didn't use his real name when he booked those two lockers." My eyes slid toward the big guy as I mentioned his late captor, the motion hidden by the custom wraparound shades I wore.

"You kiddin'," he replied, amused. "New Oslo an' Alliance both have a list of mercs. Neither one'd let a merc transport a payday on a passenger flight. 'Cops', though…" Riddick shrugged.

"They'd go ape if word got out that you were aboard the _Hunter-Gratzner_. Shippers would want to keep it quiet, the government would want every little bit of info—"

"I get it, I get it." The prissy little man frowned grouchily. "Not a word about _him_ to anyone. Bloody hell."

"_Thank_ you." I relaxed back into the co-pilot's couch as Riddick smoothly landed our appropriated star yacht. Not that its former would miss it, since she was dead.

"Let's make this a short stop," the convict requested. "Fuel, food, an' water."

"_Sparrow_, this is Tangiers Port Support. Anything we can get for ya? Over." I smiled as the voice came over the comm.

"Top off our tanks, please, and some supplies would be most welcome." Imam Abu al-Walid cleared his throat, and I shot him a glare. "We have four Muslims aboard, if you don't mind. Over."

"Not a problem, _Sparrow_. Your bay is clear for passengers. Support out." Before the comm channel clicked off, Paris had unbuckled and began gathering the few belongings he had salvaged from the wreck. He shot out of the cockpit and through the outer hatch as though the hounds of hell nipped at his heels.

"I'll check my system, see if Jamie's responded." Rising from my seat, I placed a hand on Riddick's arm briefly and left. Unlike the merchant, I passed through an interior hatch, quickly booting up the secure comm unit provided to me by my employers. As I'd hoped, a new message from my pseudo-brother blinked at me, along with one from the head of the firm, Randolph Trent. I opened the one from my friend first.

"Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, Eileen, how do you manage to get into these situations?" The image of the redhead on the screen sighed. "We found out shortly after you left that Erica's pregnant. I hope you can make it back in time to stand as the baby's godmother.

"Derek got the pool on Johns, just over a thousand UDs. I think I can guess who this 'nameless' survivor of yours is, but as long as it remains a guess, we're in the clear. And if he can get such a wanton reaction out of you with a _touch_, he might actually be _good_ for you. Try to keep him out of any more trouble, though, would you?" I felt my face heat up, wondering what, exactly, I had done.

"I can hardly believe you bumped into Sharon Montgomery and her husband, but I've passed that request on to Mr. Trent. The data for adopting Miss Brandon is already in the works and moving fast. Mr. Trent probably has more information on all of that, so expect something from him in the near future.

"I've started asking around about freighters, but it'd help if I had some specs on this yacht you're planning on trading in. You stay as safe as possible, understand? Get back here soon, 'cause we miss you."

With a bit of a smile, I closed that message and played the one from our boss.

"Dammit, Bergenhaus, you scared me half to death, disappearing like that. It's good to hear that you and Sharon are all right, though. I've already talked to Rob; he's so relieved to know his daughter's alive that she could wrap him around her finger in no time. He can meet you on Aquila Major ten days from this timestamp. He's got a Newtonian Institute board meeting there, and wants to thank you and your partner in person.

"On the subject of the Brandon girl, I've made sure that Social Services on Scorpio I is a kicked anthill. First thing they did was check the books, and the foster home hadn't reported her missing, so they were still getting the money to support her. That prompted a surprise inspection of the place, with police backup." He sighed, running a hand through his silvered hair. "They were running a child brothel, with security cameras in all the rooms. Stupid perverts kept the recordings, too." Then Randy's brown eyes twinkled mischievously. "Somehow, a few members of the press found out in time to catch the cops hauling the adults away, and a young officer made a vague comment in front of the cameras. Naturally, the public's curiosity was piqued when that segment was broadcast, and a few more details came out. Most citizens of Scorpio I are screaming for stricter regulation on the foster system."

"About fuckin' time," I growled under my breath.

"That's all the news I have for you, but I'd like to know why you got on a slow ship and willingly got into a locker when you've told me repeatedly that you hate cryo. And I want you working again as soon as possible, so stay safe."

With a sigh, I closed that message and started the recorder for my reply.

"I appreciate the information about Scorpio I, sir. As for my reasoning… I had one of my feelings. And they _did_ need me and the equipment I'd packed. Jamie knows most of the story, if you want to ask him.

"We were already planning to pop by Aquila Major, as one of the survivors is Dr. Sean O'Connell, recently assigned to NI's campus there. With that schedule, Shazza, Jack, and I might do some shopping. A couple of the others have nothing but the clothes they were wearing when they boarded the _Hunter-Gratzner_.

"I should be available to work on more cases soon; Jamie's checking out hyper-equipped ships, and I plan on trading this overly-fancy jumper toward one. So there's a positive for you.

"As usual, give me a shout if you need me, sir. Bergenhaus out." I ended that one and immediately started another, shorter message for my friend, telling him I'd be back on Icarus Station in two months, at most. I assured him that I'd do my best to keep my 'partner' out of trouble, then attached a data packet with the _Sparrow_'s technical readouts. Both recordings went out just in time.

"Gettin' ready t' hit th' takeoff queue, Eileen. Need your ass up here t' do th' talkin'." Riddick didn't really need to use the intercom for me to hear him, but it saved the others' ears since he didn't need to bellow.

"On my way," I replied, quickly shutting down and storing my comm system. Everyone was strapping themselves back into jumpseats as I entered the cockpit and slid into the co-pilot's couch. The ship comm activated at a touch.

"Tangiers Control, this is _Sparrow_, requesting departure clearance. Over." I figured one of the others had handled the delivery of food.

"Control to _Sparrow_, proceed to liftoff queue three, slot twelve. Traffic Lane 53-B beacons will take you out-system. Over."

"Confirm queue three, slot twelve, Lane 53-B. Much appreciated, Control. _Sparrow_ out." I tapped navigation controls as the convict gently took the ship out of the docking bay and onto the taxi strip.

Wherever and however he'd learned to pilot, the man was _good_. Even the initial boost off the tarmac that sent us skyward barely jostled us, the crash webbing almost superfluous. Near-reckless speed zipped us along the assigned path with ease, and it took only an hour to reach the outer edge of the system.

"Jesus Christ," Shazza breathed as the hum of the sublight engines died. "Can we _please_ take it a bit easier goin' into Aquila Major? I swear you scared a year off my life."

"Fine." Riddick only conceded when I turned a chiding look on him. He set the coordinates for our next stop, then gently ran up the hyperdrive. The stars outside became a mottled gray nothingness as we broke past the speed of light.

He frowned mentally as the technicians—he recognized the pseudo-uniforms—wrestled him off the stand that had held him for forty-five years and into a large crate. Chillingsworth had stormed by perhaps half an hour earlier, and he just knew that the mated pair of Furyans had caused her anger. Being Alphas, they wouldn't have willingly cooperated with the crazy bitch and her plans.

Maybe _dear_ Antonia had tried to confront them and got killed for it. Good riddance to bad rubbish.

The three-centimeter holes in the crate's sides allowed him to see that he was being hauled aboard a runabout, which confirmed his suspicion, and he started fighting the chemicals in his body with everything he had. Too much remained for him to do anything but twitch, though. Dammit all, he wanted to be in control of his life again.

Tamping down the frustration, he forced the lids down over his eyes. Above all, he just wanted to go _home_, to be with his family. Was that so much to ask for?

"Peace, Marcus." Color bloomed on the backs of his eyelids; first the much-missed pink skies of Furya, then the tangled grotto that sheltered the Lady's shrine, surrounded by waving blue-green seaver grass. The Lady herself stepped out of the trees. Her periodic visits to his mind had anchored him to sanity over the years.

"Lady Shirah." His mental self knelt before her. She wasn't _quite_ a goddess; the race's records told of the powerful shamaness who had lived during the difficult times when they had been adapting to Furya's extreme conditions. She'd chosen to linger after the death of her body in order to guide them all.

"Oh, Marcus." She looked around and sighed. "You have missed so much while imprisoned." A wave of her hand caused the landscape to ripple and change. First, the grotto lost every leaf, leaving only dark, interwoven branches. The seaver grass, too, vanished, replaced by a carpet of gravestones. His heart seized in his chest at the ominous sight. "The People face extinction, dear one. A fraction escaped the destruction, most of them Omegas. You have already seen the _only_ surviving Alpha female and her mate."

"Only… just _one_?" If the other survivors consisted solely of Omegas and other ranks capable of passing as normal humans, no new Alpha or Beta lines would emerge for generations. "What disaster could slay so many of us?"

"The human sort." A rare scowl crossed Shirah's lovely face. "A soldier of a strange religion had them hunted down. Furya bears little life now, none of it truly intelligent."

No spine-cats. No scale-wolves. No crested eagles, the totem of his own Pack. Could they ever recover?

"Many of the totem species left with those who escaped, Marcus. Those who have them now may not know the truth, but they survive. Eventually, Furya _will_ live again… so long as the young Riddick fulfills his destiny."

So the male he'd seen _was_ a Riddick. They'd been one of the greatest Alpha lines, producing strong, charismatic Pack leaders for centuries. If anyone could unite the scattered Furyan survivors, it would be a scion of that House. And he had formed a mating bond with the last Alpha female…

"What of her bloodline?" The small, slender woman had all but radiated psychic power, strong but undisciplined. The Lady would know.

"Veruna." His astral form slumped against the bole of a tree in relief. "The strongest of her line in centuries, but untrained. These people are taking you to her closest ally, Lord Arganth." His heart sank again; his parents and older siblings had fallen, or he'd not be Lord of his House. "Though he is an ordinary human, she counts this man as a brother."

"Normals as part of her Pack." He snorted. A ludicrous idea, since ordinary people didn't understand a Furyan's need for a supportive group who cooperated to benefit the whole. No, the vanilla humans he's met were greedy and selfish.

"She had no contact with other Furyans until she met the young Riddick less than two weeks ago, Marcus." Shirah's voice had turned sharp, scolding him. "And the people she has chosen are steadfast and loyal. You know better than to assume things about someone you've yet to meet."

He flinched, ashamed of his own thoughts. One did not judge a crested eagle by its tail feathers, but he'd been doing exactly that. His time as Chillingsworth's plaything had hurt him, changed him. He had to regain the ability to be civilized if he wanted to be of any assistance to the young Alpha pair.

"Rest now, Marcus." The Lady leaned close, touching his forehead with a finger. Lethargy spread from the spot. "Sleep, and wake when you are safely with her ally."

He drifted into slumber, comforted in a way he hadn't been for forty-five years.

(Riddick)

Th' faint sounds of sex from th' prospectors' cabin make me grit my teeth. I'm achin' for Eileen, but it ain't happenin' until we get rid of th' astrophysicist, at least. Th' kid only trusts me, my woman, an' th' Montgomery woman, so she's still sleepin' in th' sittin' room of our suite.

But I understand Jackie-girl. Eileen shared th' message from her boss with me, an' only MM&T's involvement in prosecutin' th' bastards is keepin' me from turnin' th' ship around so I c'n gut 'em. It's still a temptin' thought.

I open th' door t' see th' girl passed out on the dark-colored couch an' move by on silent feet. Once I close th' bedroom hatch, I hear th' sound of runnin' water. My clothes come off real damn quick.

I step into th' head an' just watch for a few minutes. Th' rippled glass around th' shower distorts my mate's form a bit, but her scent's all through th' humid air. Then I grin an' join her.

(Eileen)

I gasped when hands came around from behind me to cup my breasts. As surprise became pleasure, I leaned back against Riddick. Yeah, he'd snuck up on me again, but he'd had the white noise of running water to cover any sounds he made.

Desire pooled in my belly as deft fingers rolled my stiff, sensitive nipples. One of my hands reached back to stroke the hard length trapped between us. The big guy groaned, moving into my touch as he leaned forward to take my lips. He palmed my mons, pulling me against his body as calloused fingertips slid over the most sensitive part of my body.

"Mine," he growled. I tried to turn, wanting him inside me, but Riddick held me too tightly for that. "Not in a shower, not th' first time."

"I'm not a damn virgin," came my hot retort.

"Not talkin' 'bout that. Talkin' 'bout _our_ first time." His lips caressed my jaw with little kisses. "On a bed, not against a wall."

Any reply I might have made vanished as the convict went to work on my body, stealing my breath and scattering rational thought.

(Riddick)

I smooth the washcloth over her flawless skin as she recovers, watchin' th' soap suds slide downward. I haven't found a scar yet; I've got a few, but I've had a much harder life. An' I'm lucky that I heal quickly. Most people I've run into who've been in 'homes' like the ones I have bear lots of marks recallin' their abused pasts. Remindin' them of it every day.

"My first kill…" Eileen reaches up t' touch a tiny mark under her jaw. "Sixteen, first semester of college. I was studying at th' library, stayed longer than I meant to. Started walking back to th' dorm in th' dark. A man jumped me from some bushes by th' sidewalk, put a knife to my throat and started tellin' me how he was gonna rape me, torture me, an' then kill me." A territorial growl starts up in my chest. "Didn't have any weapons—hadn't really got into martial arts yet—just my tablet an' stylus. Reacted on instinct, stabbed behind me with th' business end of th' stylus. Got him straight in th' trachea, used his own knife t' finish it. Dumped th' corpse an' th' blade in th' river, went t' th' dorm, an' fell asleep as soon as my head hit th' pillow. No nightmares, no regrets." I don't think she's noticed that she's droppin' letters as she speaks.

"If ya hadn't taken care of him yourself, I'd hafta go find him an' tear him apart myself." I kiss that tiny souvenir of her first brush with death, an' then her lips. _Nobody_ hurts my woman an' gets away with it.

~Ours,~ th' animal inside me growls. ~Our mate, our cub. Pack.~ I ain't lettin' go of 'em without a fight, whether it's against someone else or myself.

"Ja-ack, come _on_." Her green eyes showed a tiny bit of the fear I could guess she felt. "Me an' Shazza will be with ya th' whole time. Ain't gonna let somebody snatch ya."

"Promise?"

"Cross my heart an' hope t' die." The girl eased toward me, shyly raising a hand that I took in my own. "We'll get ya some good clothes… an' unmentionables that fit."

"What about Ri—_him_? He's got even less than I do."

"I got it covered kid." Zeke grinned lopsidedly from beside the outer hatch. "He gave me his sizes, an' I can pretty much pick what he'd choose for himself." Jack gave the man a sidelong glance before 'humph'ing.

It soon became obvious that the Montgomery heiress had been to Aquila Major's spaceport shopping district before, as she led us to specific stores. I only picked up a couple of bags for myself, as did Shazza, but we had at least eight for the twelve-year-old. As our final stop, we dropped into a luggage shop and purchased a pair of suitcases that Jack could store her new wardrobe in.

Well, it had been _intended_ as our final stop. But the tiger-striped fur in the window of a curiosities shop piqued my interest. The clerk watching the counter hastily assured us that the full-pelt rug was not from an actual animal, but designed to look like it was. The forty-five centimeter paws had already told me that much; I didn't know anywhere that grew tigers that big. I couldn't resist the bargain price, so Shazza took my bags, and I humped the rolled-up rug all the way back to the _Sparrow_. For the moment, it went up against a bulkhead, but once we got back into space, I'd get Riddick to help me put it in the middle of the common area's comfortable seats.

Zeke had beaten us back, but he'd only had two people to shop for, so I wasn't surprised. He was already going through his haul with the convict, and I smiled, seeing some things draped across the back of the couch, while others went into a nondescript black carryall. The larger man looked up at me, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly as something dark brown went into the bag.

"One more night, an' you'll have a cabin to yourself, kiddo." Shazza ruffled Jack's hair, causing the girl to duck away with a grin. Since the four Muslims had been packed into one cabin, we'd allowed the older two, Suleiman and Hassan Abdullah, to move into the room vacated by O'Connell. Why the imam had been so reluctant to divulge the boys' last name when it was so common was beyond me.

(Jack)

She couldn't sleep.

Oh, the couch facing the entertainment center was comfortable enough, and she wasn't too tall for it. Still, Jack stared across the barely-lit room at the pair of suitcases in the corner, her mind racing. With Shazza and Zeke gone, Riddick and Eileen would be the only adults keeping the holy man away from her.

They might have thought she was asleep in the cockpit just after they escaped from the _Kubla Khan_, but she'd heard every word of the hushed argument about her. And al-Walid was hiding things; what, she didn't exactly know, but he'd come up with answers about the merc ship far too quickly. He'd drag her off _Sparrow_ in a heartbeat once they reached Helion Prime, if he thought he could get away with it.

And that was what kept her awake. Life among Muslims, especially orthodox ones like the imam, would be almost as bad as the foster home she'd escaped from not that long ago. He'd strike when she was least protected, too.

Maybe she'd be able to lock herself in a cabin when they got to the Helion system.

(Eileen)

Less than a block from the Newtonian Institute's main gate, Shazza tugged on her new shirt for the tenth time. It matched her eyes, a gentle grey-green with ruffled sleeves. Zeke's remaining hand grabbed her fidgeting one to still it.

"It looks good on ya, luv. Stop worryin' so much." He'd stayed as cool as a cucumber the whole time. The heiress sighed, but kept silent as the campus entrance neared.

Not that she needed to.

"Sharon!" An older man approached, his pace just barely on the dignified side of a run. The moment he was in arms' reach, he pulled her into a tight hug and kissed her forehead. "Thank God you're all right. I don't know what I'd have done if you…" He broke off the thought with a shudder, and I recalled that he'd never remarried after the death of Shazza's mother.

"You c'n thank Eileen an' her partner for that." I smiled slightly, appreciating her discretion. "He got Zeke away from those bloody land-sharks when I couldn't, an' kept him from bleedin' out 'fore they could fix up what was left. An' when I sprained me ankle, she wasn't about t' leave me behind." Her father turned to me.

"You and your partner have my deepest gratitude, Ms. Bergenhaus. Sharon means everything to me." I squirmed internally under his grey-green gaze—exactly the same color as his daughter's.

"Well, it wasn't all _us_; their pure stubbornness played a big part. Wouldn't let anything keep 'em apart for long if they could do somethin' about it." Mr. Montgomery nodded at the taller brunette, and she bestowed a brief hug on me.

"Keep 'em outta trouble an' stay safe," she murmured before letting go. Then, hand in hand, Shazza and Zeke headed across a grassy courtyard and disappeared into a building. The trillionaire gestured toward an arched passage, and I followed him into it.

"Randy gave me the bare bones of what happened, but I'd like to know more." Grimacing to myself, I related a heavily censored version of the story, keeping my mate's identity out of it. Emphasizing the teamwork of his daughter and her husband seemed to get through to him, as did Shazza's persistent concerns for Zeke's health and safety after he was injured.

"You're telling me that I need to accept… Zeke, or lose Sharon completely." I nodded, and Mr. Montgomery sighed heavily. "I'll try. On another subject entirely, I notice that your partner isn't here."

"He's, ah, not much of a people person." It took a moment to find words that fit Riddick without blowing his cover. "He prefers to deal with strangers as little as possible."

"Then extend my thanks to him, Ms. Bergenhaus. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a board meeting to see to." He walked away as soon as I nodded.

Stuffing my hands into my pockets, I headed back to the spaceport, whistling idly.

The big convict was waiting just inside the _Sparrow_'s hatch when I arrived, his face expressionless. His body language, however, practically shouted, 'Can we go now?' I understood completely, wanting him just as much. Within minutes, the others were buckling their crash webbing, Jack seated opposite the four Muslims and giving al-Walid the hairy eyeball.

Luckily for us, traffic in and out of the system was at a lull, and we shot skyward quickly. Riddick made a straight shot toward the Helion System, engaging the hyperdrive the moment we'd cleared the system's Oort Cloud. The girl stood up first.

"I'm gonna see what this thing has in its vid library. If it ain't got nothin' good, I'll prob'ly take a nap." She stretched 'casually', then sauntered out of the cockpit. Abu murmured some sort of excuse as he herded the boys out, casting strange looks at me and the imposing man in the pilot's couch.

Almost as soon as I slipped out of my own seat, heavily-muscled arms slid around my waist. I leaned back against my mate's chest, glad that getting rid of passengers got him to show more affection outside the suite. Riddick kissed my neck, then gently bit my ear.

"Kid can't walk in on us now." The implication of his rougher-than-usual rumble made me hum with anticipated pleasure. I laced a hand with one of his, then slowly stepped out of the embrace. Side-by-side, we moved to our quarters, locking the door.

A moment later, he'd pinned me to the wall, hands lifting me off my feet as he devoured my mouth. I wrapped my legs around his hips and my arms around his shoulders, happy to finally unleash my libido. The convict pulled me away from the bulkhead without breaking the kiss, carrying me further into the suite. Then he pulled away, all but ripping off his shades and piercing me with mercury eyes.

"Gonna pick up where we left off on that hellhole." He grinned, then tossed me onto the bed. I bounced once on the scarlet silk sheets, arching an eyebrow.

"That's funny, I don't remember a bed bein' involved then." He crawled up the mattress toward me with a slight growl. Knees between my legs and a hand on either side of my shoulders, Riddick loomed over me.

"Wasn't one convenient." His lips slanted across mine again and I clung to him, one hand stroking his smooth scalp. After a few moments, he pulled back and swiftly untied both his boots and mine. The footwear thumped on the floor, casually discarded.

I sat back as my mate stripped us both, my inner animal purring happily. He nipped and licked at my skin, sending shivers through my body. Heat and tension pooled at my core, and I surrendered to the sensual experience.

(Riddick)

I watch as she reacts t' my touches, writhin' an' clutchin' th' sheets when she can't reach me. Acts like nobody's ever told her or shown her how beautiful she is. Somethin' I'm gonna hafta work on, however long I have with her.

Givin' in t' temptation, I taste her, short, tightly curled hairs ticklin' my face. It hooks me instantly; I'll never get enough of that sweet flavor. I grab Eileen's hips t' hold her still for my mouth, an' she claws at th' bed. Sounds like somethin' tore, but I put it outta my mind.

Her cry as she comes pleases th' beast inside me immensely, an' I give my mate a moment t' recover while I grab a condom outta th' set of drawers next t' th' bed. Ain't gonna be one of those dickwads that knocks a woman up an' leaves her t' raise th' kid by herself; kids oughtta have both parents. 'Sides, if someone found out it was mine, _both_ of 'em would be in danger. 'Nother Johns ain't gonna happen if I c'n help it.

Both sides of me absolutely _hate_ th' thought of leavin' her an' th' kid behind once I get 'em t' Icarus Station. But there's no way I could settle down with her, even if I were th' settlin' type. Not with mercs on my neck.

An' I'll _always_ have mercs on my neck, thanks t' th' fuckin' Company. Shoulda taken Sergeant Drift's advice an' gone straight t' th' Alliance with th' evidence I'd gotten 'bout Sigma 3. Stupid kid that I was back then, I tried blackmailin' th' Company, an' look where it got me.

A slim, strong leg hookin' behind my knee knocks me back t' th' present. I give in as my woman, my mate, murmurs my name, her voice needy. Sinkin' into her tight, hot pussy sends all other concerns outta my head. All that matters right now is me an' her, an' us wantin' each other.

_Eileen. Sweet Eileen._

_**My**__ sweet Eileen._

(Eileen)

Only the slight quivering of the arms planted on either side of me gave away how much effort Riddick was putting into keeping himself in check. Each slow thrust of his hips drove his cock a little deeper into me. I clutched at his back, enjoying the slight burn of being stretched around his girth.

Once he'd seated himself balls-deep inside me, the big convict relaxed his arms to rest his elbows on the bed. Our foreheads and noses touched, silvered gazes locked. After a moment, he rocked against me in a short, swift movement. The result didn't seem to satisfy him any more than it did me, as he lifted one of my legs over his shoulder and thrust sharply again. I gasped as I felt the stroke hit my cervix, filling me to the point where I felt I might split in two.

With a groan of his own, Riddick began pounding into me, nearly pulling out before slamming home again. I was still so sensitive that all it took to send me over the edge of orgasm was his thumb between our bodies, rubbing hard over my clit. He sped up his pace as my rational mind floated away on waves of pleasure. The beast took over, frenzied with lust, leaving brief moments seared into my memory.

Me astride the powerful man, his hands pinned by my shins as I rode him.

Hanging on to the headboard as he drove into me from behind.

Nothing but my head and shoulders on the bed, my hands clutching his thighs.

Every single moment focused on getting one of us over the drop into delicious ecstasy. It all culminated in the instant when we cried out together and plunged off that cliff into darkness as one.

Even though my eyelashes felt like someone had tried to glue them together, I forced them apart. Mercury pools filled my vision, each ringed by thin lines of black and chocolaty brown. We laid so close together that the tips of our lashes tangled, blocking out everything that might have been visible, save for his eyes.

"Wow." I barely had enough energy to whisper the word. Sweat cooled on my skin, Riddick's body still intimately intertwined with mine. For several minutes, I simply breathed, reveling in our closeness and the shared embrace as I regained some energy. "I think my bones have melted." That got a chuckle out of my lover.

"Best sex I've ever had." He moved his head slightly, nuzzling my cheek and pressing a soft kiss to my lips. "I've heard some guys talk 'bout blackin' out when they came, but this's th' first time it's happened t' me."

"Glad I'm not the only one who passed out." The outer corners of his eyes crinkled as I felt him grin against my cheek. One of his broad hands ran slowly up and down my back. "I'm probably gonna be _so_ sore when this catches up t' me." I paused. "Good kinda sore, though." That got me another chuckle.

"Go ahead an' take a shower while I clean up, babe." The big convict sat up, slowly pulling out of me as he released my arm and leg, which had inadvertently gotten trapped under his body. Threading fingers through my short hair, he brushed my cheek with a thumb, smiling gently, tenderly. "Think th' sheets're a loss."

Startled, I looked at the scarlet silk. Long rents exposed the mattress beneath, the shreds of material soaked through in places. A glance at the wall chrono told me that over three hours had passed since we entered the suite.

_Well, holy shit._

I scooted over to the edge of the bed as Riddick began stripping it of the sheets' remains. He bent, giving me a brief glimpse of a long, red welt. Then he turned toward the disposal unit, and I stared.

Scratches criss-crossed his skin from shoulders to knees, punctuated by small crescents nearly deep enough to draw blood.

"Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ on a _crutch!_" I stood, gently touching one of the longest marks. "Damn, Riddick, I'm—" His finger on my lips silenced me.

"Rick. For you, it's Rick." I blinked in surprise as he smiled. "Besides, it feels good. Stings a bit, but turnabout's fair play." Only then did I notice the bite marks and fingertip-sized bruises I sported.

Rid—Rick was right. The slight pain felt pleasant, and my sated animal side practically purred her satisfaction. What she felt could be summed up in one word.

"Mine." My mate grinned savagely at the possessive statement, then smacked my ass lightly.

"Go wash. I'll be there in a minute." With a sway in my hips, I moved toward the head, smiling smugly.

_Poachers beware._

While the _Sparrow_ orbited Helion Prime in a holding pattern, a commotion drew me into the main living space. The scene I found there made my blood boil; my tolerance of the imam and his attitudes toward the remaining non-Muslims on the small ship had gotten strained, and this broke it.

Abu gripped the arm of a wildly-struggling Jack with one hand, the other holding her new luggage. She'd dug both heels into the carpeted deck, leaning away from the dark-skinned man with her full weight. Little Ali watched with dismay, immediately launching into a stream of Arabic upon seeing me.

"What the _hell_ do you think you're doing?" The cleric looked up at my snapped question and scowled, but didn't let go.

"I will not leave her to become a murderer!"

"So you're attemptin' a kidnapping." I _really_ hoped that the adoption had gone through. "Let. Her. Go. _You_ have no legal claim on her, and I _do_. You're not takin' _my_ sister _anywhere_, holy man." Fists clenched, I stalked toward him, and his eyes suddenly went wide with fear. Both of his hands opened and he backed away.

Jack darted behind me with a frightened whimper, clutching at my shirt. The youngest Abdullah boy shut up with a relieved glance at me. My lip curled at al-Walid as he turned his back to me, and I didn't hesitate to grab the young girl's suitcases and lead her into the suite.

The asshole had probably set her back two weeks or more in her recovery from the foster 'home' she'd escaped.

"He's gonna try again."

"I know, kiddo. That's mostly why you're here an' not your stateroom. Th' locks on th' door are better." She nodded, curling up in a miserable, shivering ball on the couch. I fiddled with the entertainment system, and a view of part of the hull and the starscape beyond finally came up on the screen.

"Whazzat?"

"_That_ would be th' outer hatch," I responded. "You'll be able t' see him leave. Until then, I want you t' lock th' door behind me an' stay put." Jack blinked and grunted in a vaguely positive tone.

She'd started picking up some of Riddick's close-mouthed tendencies.

I picked up my comm set and turned toward the door, only to be surprised as the twelve-year-old launched herself at me. She mumbled a 'thank you' into my shirt, hugging me almost too tightly. I rubbed her back soothingly and returned the embrace before disengaging myself to head for the cockpit.

Riddick—_Rick,_ I reminded myself—sat at the ship's controls, deftly avoiding stray vessels and pieces of debris without leaving our assigned flight path. Plus the shafts of coherent light streaming from Helion Prime to its four sister worlds. I leaned against the back of his seat, and he tilted his head so he could see me.

"Damn priest just tried t' snatch Jack." I scowled. "I'd press charges, if I knew th' adoption had gone through." My mate simply patted the arm of the co-pilot's couch.

"Sit. Check your mail an' relax. Holy man'll be gone soon." Then he smirked and chuckled. "Don't think he likes that new 'rug' of yours."

"I don't think he realizes it's _fake_," I replied with a laugh of my own. The enormous faux tiger pelt I'd gotten while out with Jack and Shazza—complete with 'head,' 'paws,' and a 'tail' in the correct proportions—had had the man tiptoeing around it for the entire week since Rick and I had put it out. Since it was in the most casual and comfortable area of the common room, he'd avoided a lot of things to keep from touching it.

Sighing, I slid into the padded seat and started up the comm set. Sure enough, a message from Jamie awaited me. His smile as the recording began reassured me some.

"Hey, 'Leen. The adoption's pretty much through, they just want to know whether Jacquelyn wants to go by Brandon, Bergenhaus, or a hyphenation of the two. Scorpio I is also very firmly offering a twenty-five thousand UD restitution, which I suggest she take and run with. Legally, you'll be her guardian as soon as the name part is taken care of.

"See if you can't come up with a rough estimate regarding your arrival here at Icarus, and I'll reserve a bay for you." The redhead sighed, running a hand through his slightly curly hair. "Erica's started having these bizarre cravings. Pickles and blueberry ice cream last night, cheddar-covered marshmallows the night before." I pulled a face, and heard a faintly disgusted groan from the man beside me. "And it's _always_ in the middle of the night.

"I _really_ hope you get back here soon. See you then, 'Leen." Rick shot me a curious glance, complete with raised eyebrow, and I rolled my eyes. He hadn't listened to any of my other messages from Jamie.

"He's the closest I've ever come t' havin' a brother. An' he knows I don't like my name shortened, so like any big brother, he does it just t' agitate me."

"New Mecca Control to _Sparrow_." The unexpected voice on the ship's comm startled me into sitting up properly. "Descend on Lane Six and proceed to Docking Bay Ninety-four. Over."

"Roger that, NMC. Lane Six, Docking Bay Ninety-four. Much appreciated. _Sparrow_ out." I relaxed as my mate shifted course and pulled his sunglasses down to cover his eyes. After following suit, I stretched.

_Mmm, yeah, still sore from this morning._

I'd gotten pounced upon when I was taking a bath in the huge, water jet-studded tub. Chillingsworth had spared no expense on her personal quarters in the jumper, and the pair of us were well on the way to 'christening' every part of it. The memory made a satisfied grin spread across my face.

Five minutes after the outer hatch opened, I noticed the three boys standing near the bay's personnel exit, obviously waiting on their chaperone. Frowning, I got up and checked the common area. Sure enough, Abu hovered near the suite's door, waiting for Jack to emerge. I cleared my throat loudly, crossing my arms over my chest. He looked up almost guiltily.

"I pulled up a security feed for her. She's not comin' out 'til she's sure you're gone." The imam glared at me. "Be glad I'm not pressin' charges… _this_ time."

Getting my point, he reluctantly moved away, and I kept on his heels all the way out. Al-Walid hesitated at the top of the boarding ramp, but a finger pointed at his reason for being on the ship at all, the boys, finally got rid of him. The dockworker waiting at the bottom watched the interaction with curious eyes.

"As-Salaam Aleykum!" Suleiman had cupped his hands around his mouth to make his voice carry, and his brothers waved at me.

"Aleykum as-Salaam!" At least I'd remembered the proper response to the Arabic phrase. I waved back as they turned to follow the dark-skinned man.

"They look like good kids." The man in coveralls shoved a dolly carrying two crates up the ramp. Setting them just inside the hatch, he held out a tablet with the invoice for resupplying the ship.

"Couldn't understand a word they were sayin', but yeah. Th' imam's th' one we had… issues with." I stuck a hand into my pocket, hunting for the UD chips to pay the bill and not my bank chip. "We appreciate you guys helpin' us get turned around so quickly."

"No problem," the dockworker replied as I scrawled something resembling my name on the invoice and handed it back with the cash. "Your tanks will be topped off in about ten minutes, then give us five to clear out the equipment, and you'll be good to go."

"Thanks." I flashed him a friendly smile, then waited long enough for him to get off the ramp before bringing it up and sealing the hull again. The crates didn't need to be stowed away immediately, so I let them be. The suite door eased open.

"He's gone?" I nodded at the teen, and she emerged quickly, all but plastering herself to my side. "If I _never_ have t' see him again, it'll be too soon." With a chuckle, I swung an arm over her shoulders.

"I got a message from Jamie. Only thing left on th' adoption is for you t' choose your last name: Brandon, Bergenhaus, or both." The news about the restitution pay-off could wait.

"Both." Her response came immediately. "That way people will know we're sisters, an' I won't forget Momma an' Dad." We walked into the cockpit, where Jack promptly buckled herself into a jump seat and held my comm set on her lap.

"Twelve minutes an' we're good t' go," I informed my lover. He glanced around the edge of his seat at me, then waved at the navigation console on the co-pilot's side. Slipping into the couch and fastening the safety harness, I checked the screen and then flipped on the ship's comm.

"_Sparrow_ to New Mecca Control, over." Not only had Rick plotted our course from Helion Prime to Icarus Station, but he had added the zig-zag path we'd followed since taking the yacht off the _Kubla Khan_. The straight shot was far shorter.

"NMC here, _Sparrow_. What can I do for ya? Over."

"Transmitting our flight plan, NMC. We'd like to get home as soon as possible. Over." A long pause ensued as their computers checked the information.

"We have a launch opening in fifteen minutes. Will that work for ya, _Sparrow_? Over." I smiled.

"That'll do quite nicely, NMC. Do we have a clear out-system zone toward the Arm? Over."

"Clear as the noontime sky, _Sparrow_. You're all set to go. Over."

"Thanks, NMC. _Sparrow_ out." I switched the comm off and leaned back in my seat to watch my mate. He appeared calm at first glance, but the very slight ticking of a muscle in his jaw betrayed his agitation. Over what, I couldn't tell.

The fuel hose disengaged noisily, and Rick began the preflight checks. A few minutes, the light next to the bay's exit shifted from red to green, and he coaxed the jumper into a hover, gliding outside. The nearby launchpad—a fifty-meter square of concrete ten meters thick, designed to absorb the heat and exhaust of lift engines—cleared just as we reached it, the previous vessel little more than a bright speck in the sky. Next to the pad, a large noticeboard changed to read '_Sparrow_.'

The ship eased forward, then raised her bow toward the intensely blue sky. Heavy lifters fired with a barely-audible roar and a faint shiver. G-forces pressed me against the back of the seat.

The shaking and noise abated as we left the planet's atmosphere behind. The big convict smoothly transferred power from the fuel-guzzling lift engines to the more economical sub-light propulsion system. Artificial gravity kicked in, setting my feet back on the deck.

"How long 'til we get there?" My new sister sounded very excited.

"Two hours ten t' get out-system." Now I knew something was bothering Rick, from the tone of his voice. He tapped on a display between us. "Then… thirteen days, ten hours, forty-two minutes."

"Plus however long we're stuck in a holding pattern, waiting for a berth." I grimaced. Traffic around Icarus Station could be hell's own bitch.

"But it took us three weeks t' get _here_ from th' _Kubla Khan_." I turned the nav screen toward Jack so she could see it.

"See how much we zig-zagged t' get here?" She nodded as I traced the lines with a finger. "We don't have any more stops t' make, and th' autopilot can make th' minor course corrections t' avoid th' systems in between." Then I held out my hands for my personal comm. "Jamie's offered t' reserve a slip if we can give him an ETA."

My lover hummed his agreement, so I started up the system to record a message.

"Hey, Jamie. Jack's decided to hyphenate, and we should get to Icarus in a bit more than thirteen and a half days. Hang in there; relief's on the way. See you soon." The short video went winging away on the communications net, and I sat back, glad to have just me, Rick, and Jack left on the ship.


End file.
